But, of course

Two slaves are better than one, afterall.

"You'd make a terrible merchant." I noted, getting hard as I looked over her prostrate form. "You never start by offering full price."

"There isn't time."

I looked her over, crossing my demonic legs. I ran my hand through the soft silver fur, returning my talons to fingers. I could see the sense in it; These two were hermits, solitary, and the nature of whatever wound I left Lochra would baffle any hamlet medicine-man. I was the only option, and that left me in a strong bargaining position; not that I needed to be.

I could also see something else, Cuanne knew she couldn't resist me forever. And so, by offering in exchange for something precious, she could preserve her pride. I could respect that.

Or maybe I was just reading too much into it.

Regardless, I wanted her. I wanted this little wolf woman almost as nuch as I wanted the Warmaiden. And she was willing, for a price.

But, how could I trust her?

I had been betrayed by family. By family, of all things. I had been betrayed by a thrall, which was more forgivable; once passions had cooled, I had to admit the contract was ****.

It still pissed me off.

"But, what is your word worth?" I asked, leaning on my fist. I felt my tail twich with irritation, and **** it still.

"It is worth what it is worth." Cuanne lifted her head and met my eye. We had two between us, and neither wavered. "I would not give my oath if I intended to break it."

"Talk is cheap." I noted, a favored saying of my sister. A saying my father had scoffed at.

"Not the word of a warrior." She said, with heat. "A warrior's word has weight."

"A merchant's too." I felt my lips curve with irony. "And despite appearances, I am still the son of a merchant. Fine, let's make a contract between you and I."

"You will save my woman." She touched her head to the floorboards. "I have no other demands."

Or perhaps, more accurately, she had no time. Or she wasnt about to risk my saying no. It was a good way to **** through the one thing you wanted, but it was a poor way to do business.

Still, it was convient.

"I only require that you stay with me, serve me, and preserve my life. For as long as we both keep faith." I smiled and pointed at her. "I figure it a fair price; a life for a life."

"A life for a life." She repeated, even and empty.

"Yes. If I can save her, I will do so." I stood. "I'll also leave her relatively unmolested. I will leave her free and unchanged. On my word, in my father's name, I swear."

"You will not touch her?" Cuanne looked at me, disbelief and hope warring on her face.

"Unless you want me to, or she offers." I replied easily, drawing my Daggertalon across my palm. "On my word."

"Then by these terms I give my oath, to stay by your side, and to serve and protect you." She reached out and grasped my talon. "By my honor as a Warrior of Greyling's for as long as the terms command, or until the Day of Rupture."

I didn’t know what she was on about, but it sounded like a powerful oath.

She drew her hand back, blood spurting from the cut, and clasped my arm. I had intended a handshake, but this gesture seemed more significant to Cuanne and so I returned it.

"Now, let's go see about your wife."